


The Place Where They Go

by Coop_Scoop



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: 4x08 redo, Frotting, Grinding, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Kissing, M/M, berlin aint really him, this is eh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coop_Scoop/pseuds/Coop_Scoop
Summary: Andrés knew he had to leave Martín, his brother had played it out. But he was going to just kiss him and break his heart that was easier than letting him know he was dying and his plan could never make it. He never counted on not being able to pull away, never counted on feelings becoming an issue.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95





	The Place Where They Go

Andrés felt his whole body tense, he wouldn’t let himself feel exactly what was running through his veins. He wouldn’t let his body shudder under the feeling of the fingertips touching his face, how they dragged so fucking gently across his skin. He could even hear how loudly he was breathing, feel his heart beat in his throat, and he had to hold back the smile threatening to split his face in two. 

He had spent years convincing himself that what he felt was just love of a brother, of a platonic soulmate. That he could and would be able to deal with just touching him, being as close to him as possible. Brushes of fingers through hair, hands on waists, lips touching his cheek. Bare chests touching when they fell into bed together drunk and touch starved. But he had never allowed them to touch like this. 

It was intimate in a way he had thought he had been with his wives. 

All of them had touched him in some variable of what Martín was currently doing. The soft touch of their fingers, pulling him down to their mouths to kiss him. Hands running through his hair and soft light gasps falling from their lips. But yet even when he let himself fall, it was never the love he was wishing to feel. It was never enough. They seemed to grab at him only to get him to react, to get him to pin them against something and fuck them till they screamed. He never let himself think about who he saw when he finally came. 

He just had to forget it. 

But he was hiding his feelings in a way that made no sense to him. He had thought about this moment, but he never wanted to act on it. He knew his life was limited. He had known as soon as his mother had gotten really sick. He had spent his time watching her change slightly, watching her hands shake and the treatments they would try. Then she died. It was quick, well as quick as turning off a machine. 

He had found himself in front of Martín’s door, drunk out of his mind. Running away from his wife of only a few months, who had held his hand and kissed his cheek. He hit the door only once. Slumped down to the floor, his back pressed against the cool wood, his face in his knees. His skin was tight with dried tears. The door swung open and he felt his back hit the cold tile, he saw a bare leg next to his face. And the uncertain call of a voice he didn’t know. 

Hands slipped under his arms pulling him up and against a chest. He knew who it was just from the feeling of the hands, the smell of the skin and he had only known the man for a year. Still he leant his head back so he was resting on his shoulder, staring at the cracked ceiling. 

His heart seemed to start again when he heard the long dragged out “Andrés”, while fingers combed his hair out of his face. It was perfectly indulgent and made him just know it would be okay. Unlike the soft touch of his once loved wife. He fell out of love with her just like he had thought he had fallen in love with her, all it took was a comforting touch from Martín. 

He had spent the night being held, having himself feel like a weak person for the first time in his whole life. Wondering if he should stop ignoring the fact he was starting to feel like his left shoulder was a little weaker. But not wanting to know he could die before he is even fifty, was so much bigger. 

Andrés can only think about that night. How life could be different, if he had just let himself fall off that cliff and instead of pressing his mouth into Martín’s neck he had leaned up and pressed his lips to his. Finally tasted him when they were both young and the world hadn’t hurt them. Before they had started doing heists together. Before he had to pull his face to the side to press a kiss to his cheek everytime it worked out without a hitch. 

Yet here was. Standing in an old Monastery, about to tell the love of his life he was leaving. He was not going to tell him that he was hopeful that if he got out of the Royal Mint, with the money his brother’s plan would get him. There was a study in Switzerland, one he was hopeful would slow down the progress of his condition so he could live.

Feeling the weight of his hands, pressed gently into his neck and shoulder. Hear the whispers of the wind through the walls. “Don’t worry.” was all he could whisper. The rush he felt at the gentle brush of fingers against his cheek, had him standing his lips parted and breathing loudly. He couldn’t see how this could be attractive. 

But he looked into his eyes. Felt the heat that was burning there, felt it rush straight through him. He rocked slightly to discourage himself from getting hard, this was not the time. He hadn’t done anything but stand and be touched. 

Martín smiled, his eyes darting down. “Relax.” Murmured,thumbs brushing lightly at the skin they could touch. “Don’t be afraid.” Soft like the moonlight outside. He would love to see him under moonlight rather than these yellow tinted lamps. His lips were nothing like the woman he had kissed over the years. Thinner, with the rough rasp of stubble. His tongue was soft and he could taste the tang of whiskey shared earlier, he could never imagine how he would kiss. But he was so good at it. 

He was pulled out of the kiss by his hair, so he looked through partially closed eyelids as Martín leant forward three times, each time speaking. “Are you a coward, huh?” A brush of lips, “Huh?” A touch. “Huh?” But when he leant in it was barely enough to feel his breath, but the feeling of him dropping his arms and taking a step back was too much. 

He didn’t stop himself from placing his hands over his hips, gripping tightly and walking them back. The look on his face had him twitching, there was no way he could do what Sergio had told him. He couldn’t leave him after this. Not with the knowledge of how it felt to kiss him. 

And he did that. Kissed him. Felt how he pushed back from the wall, used it to press his body tight to his. His hair was short and tickled his fingers where he held it, using what strength he had to move him. Make each kiss better than the last. He put more of his weight on Martín hoping he would understand. His want to be the one pinned to the wall, to be coveted like the painting of him in his room. Wanted to feel like he didn’t have to be in control at every single second of the day, trying to hide what was going wrong with him from everyone. 

Then his lips were gone and he was looking into his eyes, knowing this should be the time he let him down. Told him he felt nothing, brushed his fingers over his cheek and pulled away. Turned his back and spoke, acting like a coward for only his eyes to see. Run off to his wife and fuck her. Fuck her and watch as she fell out of love with him, see how long it took for him to wish to die. 

“What are you doing?” He leaned forward, he wanted to rest his head on his shoulder and he wanted to feel his mouth on his again. He found his eyes darting between the two spots. “Are you going to tell me that you don’t want to kiss me?” 

A roll of the eyes and a bright smile, “I was going to tell you were an awful kisser.” Martín ran his thumb over his lip, “No wonder your wives all left you.” Andrés pulled roughly at his hair. Watching as his eyes closed with the smile lighting up his face. 

Nothing had him ready for a hand slipping down his side, pulling him roughly so he could feel just how worked up they both were. The same hand gripping his hip hard and the other tight on the back of his neck. 

Breath was knocked out of him. His back was cold. And he was being kissed again. He could listen to the moans that seemed to just form around them, how they melted into the night air. He arched his chest forward, pressing tightly, wishing there was less between them. Throwing his head back, only for a hand to cushion it, as a thigh pressed between his legs; making the hardness he had tried to forget about come to the forefront of his mind.

A grin was hidden in his neck, teeth and lips starting their charms on his neck. He felt weak in a way that didn’t feel like he was less than anything. Just that he had someone who could make him feel so wanted he couldn’t think past it. 

Noises filled the room and he was sure he would be on his knees, if it wasn’t for the thigh holding him up. The hand encouraged him to grind against it, guiding his hips in a slow and deep rhythm. Nothing like he had ever attempted before. He was on fire. 

He could hear his own voice groaning out Martín’s name, it stuttered when he felt just right. He was close to coming undone in his pants like a school boy, and all it took was being pressed to a wall and being kissed like he was something all too precious. 

Hands were pulling his clothes off him, he could hear them hit the floor and lips were back on his. His hands cradling the side of Martín’s face, kissing him like he never needs to breathe again. He was swimming and he didn’t want to come up for air. 

He felt dizzy. Holding on. Being led. 

He felt like he couldn’t breathe when he found himself looking up at Martín, the flush of his skin as he stripped out of his shirt. The way he shook when he ran his hands over his stomach, the way his lower half was tented and straining. He wanted to touch, taste, feel everything that was there. 

Andrés threw his head back moaning as hands ran down his legs, from knees to hips. Pulling his tucked shirt out. Pushed it up his body. 

Lips were on his skin. Making him squirm and spread his legs, they were just dragging across never dropping lower than his navel. But he found the strength in his own hands to start pulling at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it open over his chest. Loving the cool air that hit him. But he forced himself to sit up, legs spread around Martín and pulling him down so he could kiss him. 

Weight pressed him down into the soft material, he jerked up and moaned as they moved their hips. The grind was liberating and hard. He grabbed hard onto the back pocket of his jeans, finding his way into it and helping him grind down harder. They were acting like teenagers and he was sure they were going to cum like them. 

It was like a slap in the face when he finally came. He gripped on hard to whatever he could and bit down on the shoulder right in his face. His knee was pushed back by a hand and then it was still. The wet feeling wasn’t particularly great, although the deep hitched breaths filling his ears were. 

He liked this moment after sex, when the world seemed quiet and he felt the whole world around him. 

“Hold me.” He whispered into his ear, arms tightened around him. “I forget how cold it is being away from you, it’s almost as if I am deaf and blind to the world. Trying to find ones that make it less so. Then one touch from you and I can see and hear everything.” 

There’s a snicker in his ear. “What asshole?” 

“Nothing. Just didn’t see you as the type for saying such sweet things.” 

“Be careful. I might walk out that door and never come back.” Thinking that it might have been a better plan, if he had only controlled himself. But here he was cum drying in his pants, having to tell his brother that Martín was coming.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this and honestly I don't know. They aren't really their characters, but I just wanted Andrés to have a moment where he wasn't having to be in control of everything and I don't know. I guess this is what I wrote. My first time writing these two and I don't know if I like it. Sorry if you didn't like how I did.


End file.
